Page 160 of Scarlet Wars
I nodded, adrenaline buzzing under my skin.
“We need to make a run for the border. You ready?”
“Hell yeah,” I breathed. The air ahead shimmered, freedom close enough to taste. I stepped toward the edge…and stopped dead.
Not because of anything in front of me.
Because of the sound to our right.
A rustle with weight behind it; footsteps trying very hard not to sound like footsteps.
Caden heard it too. I felt the shift in him before he even moved, the muscle under his sleeve coiling like wire.
I turned my head, slowly.
They stepped out of the tree line almost in unison. Dozens of them. Fifty, maybe more.
Humans, coordinated. Military.
Rifles raised, black gear gleaming in the gray light. Helmets, visors, body armor; the whole manufactured face of control.
In mere seconds, we were surrounded.
Between us and the border, stood a human blockade with enough firepower to flatten the clearing.
Caden’s hand brushed mine, barely a touch, grounding. “Stay behind me,” he murmured.
His words hung there, as the first soldier stepped forward, voice amplified through a helmet speaker.
“Emma Thompson,” he called, tone cold and official. “By order of the United States of America: you are under arrest.”
For a long, terrible second, no one moved. The world seemed to shrink, every sound narrowing to the ragged inhale in my lungs, and the shifting of boots against dirt.
Then, another voice cut through the silence. "Grab the girl, kill the other."
The words barely had time to register before the worldexploded.
The swarm crashed into us before I could even process the sheer force of it.
One second, we were bracing for impact, the next, they wereeverywhere.
A wall of bodies slammed into us, fists swinging, boots kicking up dirt, the sheer momentum driving us apart. Someone lunged at me from the side. I ducked, barely avoiding a wild swing, but another came at me before I could reset. I twisted, shoving an elbow into his ribs, hearing the clearoofof pain as he stumbled back.
But they kept coming and coming. And coming.
Caden let out a snarl, his movements a blur as he twisted, fought, struck with vicious precision. He landed a brutal punch, sending one man staggering back with a sickening crack of bone. Another rushed him, and Caden pivoted, slamming an elbow into his gut before driving his knee into his chest. But it didn’t matter.
For every one he knocked down, three more took their place.
They hit him hard, bodies crashing into him with the force of a battering ram. His feet lost purchase.
I tried to inflict pain as much as I could, while watching Caden fight like hell beneath the suffocating mass of bodies, teeth bared, muscles straining, but even he couldn’t break free.
A grunt escaped him as they tackled him, the sheer weight of them forcing him to the ground. Hands clawed at him, gripping his arms, his legs. Boots slammed against his ribs, fists driving into his face. He fought, tried to break free, but they were relentless. His body jerked as more piled on top of him, pinning him, locking him down. His strength—formidable, unstoppable under normal circumstances—was nothing against their sheer, merciless numbers.
I watched him fuckinglose.
Something inside me snapped.
